Billionaire
by Seastone Chair
Summary: Because Alfred was a billionaire. A sexy billionaire, too." America wants to be a billionaire so frickin bad. Crack!fic! Very slight USxUK. Very slight. RussiaxUS if you look under a magnifying glass and squint.


_A/N: What is WRONG with me?! xD This is such a crack!fic. No joke. Based on the song: Billionaire by Travis somethingrather. I think it fits America perfectly. xD_

_ENJOY. _

_Slight US x UK. This is all from Alfred's point of view._

* * *

A hearty laugh escaped the American's lips; throwing his head back. His bomber jacket rested comfortably on his shoulders over a brown tuxedo. His glasses were low on his nose but he didn't care as he looked over the rim of Texas. Then, as quick as a blink, he put a hand on a hip, and gave a thumbs up, flashing a most dazzling smile. Camera flashes flickered through the room rapidly. Alfred did a couple of silly poses just for the heck of it, earning a soft chuckle from the photographers in the room.

Forbes' magazine had asked him to be on the cover of their latest issue. Why? Because Alfred was a billionaire. A _sexy _billionaire, too.

"Make sure you add Oprah and the Queen in that photo!" He exclaimed happily before quickly departing the studio. The blonde would have loved to stay, but he had to host a television show. Alfred hummed a nameless tune as he walked out the door. The sunlight shone brightly on his face, making him squint as he jogged across the street… to his television studio. All the landscape around him was blurred and messily painted in water colors.

Only a certain parts of the background was visible. Billboards had Alfred's heart-melting smile gracing the streets saying things such as, "Give Alfie your wish list, he'll be hosting Christmas! 'Cause he's a billionaire." even though it was nowhere near Christmastime.

"Mr. Jones! Mr. Jones!" A smooth, male voice shouted. Alfred stopped in mid-jog and turned to the owner of that lovely voice. A certain blonde Briton came into his view.

"Hey, babe." America said, trying to act cool and aloof as he leaned back on the hood of a Mercedes he had stopped by.

A flushed Arthur glanced away, shyly. "I was… I'm not as popular or rich as you… I was just wondering…" Green eyes flickered to that black Mercedes briefly. Alfred, surprisingly, got the message. As a hero should for a beautiful lady (or Arthur in this case), the American opened the driver door for the Briton.

Arthur let out a (very manly) squeal and hopped in the car, keys already in the ignition. "Make sure when you get home to take care of all our kids I adopted!" Alfred shut the door and watched as that black car screeched away and into that blurry background. It was so nice to have a significant other sometimes. They take care of everything except cooking.

Alfred resumed his trek to his studio. Damn, this was a huge street. _"The world better prepare for when--" _

"Ms. Cold War." An insanely creepy voice floated along the air, raping Alfred's eardrums violently. Once more, America stopped. This time, it was because he felt the sudden need to punch a Russian in the face.

"What do you want, Commie bastard?" Alfred said in a low voice, spinning on his heels. Only to come face-to-face with Ivan's chest. With flailing arms, the super rich and popular stud stumbled gracefully backwards.

"I would like my final wish granted, da." Ivan said with a happy smile. A black aura was growing from the Russian.

"Uhm… what?"

"I plan to go get burned at the stake for being a communist, so I would like your eyeballs as my final wish. I would like to eat them."

"…"

"Da?"

"…That's just wrong." And with that, Alfred fled the crime scene, finally making it safely across the street.

In a dramatic way, Alfred flung open the doors to his studio and swaggered in the pitch black doorway.

When the scene before him was quickly sketched together he was in red basketball shorts and a white wife beater. Red and white Air Jordans' were fit perfectly on his feet, blue eyes resting on his president. A wide smile spread across his face as he spun a basketball on his index finger. Congress and the House of Reps were sitting in the bleachers, looking mighty professional as they looked down their noses at what was about to unfold. All the other countries were sitting in one section behind one of the basketball hoops, looking absolutely astounded about what they were about to watch.

The Vice President was standing off to the side with a gun, video camera's stationed around the room were trained on the VP. He lifted it up, and shot it in the sky. The one-on- one basketball game started. Alfred was an absolute _beast _at basketball, and, luckily, he won the _most epic game of basketball ever_ against his president.

As he did a fancy slam dunk, winning his final point he grinned at his president. Then, "Good job insulting the Israeli prime minister, man! Around 70% of Democrats are Jewish! Good one!" And he let out his bellowing laugh and pulled a couple million dollars out of the front of his pants, throwing it in the air. As it rained money, his president ran to pick it all up.

Hey, America was America. He should have enough money to take a crack at his own recession.

"Make sure to keep the fives and twenties completely separate! Its good luck~" Alfred skipped across the basketball court to where the countries were. Then he threw money at each one of them. Before the money got to them, it turned into a burger and hit each one of them. Who all ate it and complimented on how utterly _delicious _it was!

Now none of them would know what hungry was! Ahaha!

"I know we all share a similar dream—"

Everything seemed to wash away in an instant.

_BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!_

Alfred bolted up from bed, white covers pooling around his bare thighs. Blue eyes were wide as he looked around frantically.

He saw his bedroom… and that grumpy Briton sleeping next to him. Arms were still wrapped loosely around Alfred's waist. He furrowed his thin eyebrows.

"I'm gunna need to be a frickin trillionaire…"

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_R E V I E W ?_


End file.
